I'm Home
by Im-Not-Good-Im-Better
Summary: There are many surprises when Cammie comes back from running from the Circle.
1. I'm Back

**I'm alive! And I brought a new story! I decided to do this since I've seen a few with the same concept. I promise if you love some of my other stories, you'll love this one!**

I fidgeted nervously as I sat in the limo. There's only a handful of times I've been nervous: a first date, an elevator ride, a code black, a rooftop in Boston, Blackthorne Tombs, a waterfall, the pigeon room, multiple times from my trip. All of them I've been nervous, but not this nervous.

I'm going home. To Roseville. To Gallagher. My home. After I left it. Now I'm coming back. With him.

He grabbed my hand, and I instantly felt calm. I gave him a small smile. He gave one back, his first smile in a while. He hasn't been very happy since I told him I wanted to go back. He doesn't say it upsets him, but I know it does. Usually, I can't tell how he feels, but with this I can.

"You can do this," he said.

"I know," I said confidently. "Can you?" He gave my hand a squeeze.

"I just worry about you. You made me promise if you went to back to Gallagher, that I had to go to Blackthorne. I'm not sure I'm ready yet. I can't protect you from Maine," he said. I smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm at going to the Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women. It will protect me."

"So _now_ you believe in the Gallagher security," he said sarcastically.

I stuck my tongue out at him and opened my door and hopped out. I took him to a find a secret passage to get in. We avoided cameras, people, and I made Bubblegum Guard promise not to tell anyone I was here yet. With my ear pressed to the doors of the Grand Hall, I heard boys introducing themselves. Hm? Oh well.

I waited until they were done to burst through the doors, stalk over to the podium, push my mother a side (in a respectful manner that Madame Dabney, I could see from her face, was proud of, and say, "I'm Cameron Morgan, and I'm back."


	2. I'm Hated

It was silent. I grabbed his hand and went to the senior table. There wasn't a spot by my friends, but I didn't want to sit there. Everyone's eyes were trained on us. I sat him at an empty seat. It was him, me, no one, then Tina Walters.

She looked at us, probably wondering why her sources never said anything. _I was off the grid. That's why,_ I thought. After a little bit of silence, I turned to her and said, "Tina," she seemed to light up that she was technically the first person I talked to since my arrival, "I'm giving you full permission to ask me any question. But only one."

She thought the offer over. It surprised me when she leaned in, cutting off our conversation from everybody. "Did you find your dad?" she whispered.

I shook my head sadly. Standing, I turned to the hall and shouted to everyone, "Stop staring! It's creeping me out!"

Most people continued to look at us; the rest still glanced over quite a bit, though.

He looks at me with sympathy, and I can't help but smile. He's too cute!

After that (I'm still standing), Bex, Macey, Liz, Jonas and Grant all got up and dumped their trays. As they past where I was they gave me dirty looks and death glares. They were mad. What really broke my heart was that Liz didn't even look at me. She must have been the maddest.

"Are you okay?" he asked. I guess I zoned out. Tears started to burn my eyes.

"Yeah, I'm just going to go." I should have talked to my mom (she's still in shock). I should have found Mr. Solomon (he's here somewhere . . . I can feel it). I thought about finding my friends but pushed the thought aside. _They hate you. You've been gone three months and half a semester. They won't just forget about that when you show up. . ._

I got up and left. He wouldn't follow; he knew when I did this I needed to be alone.

I had to think. The best place to do that is my secret passageway. I know I shouldn't say that it's _mine_, but it feels like it's mine.

I slipped into the passageway. It was silent, but I felt a presence. My spy self kicked in. I eased further into it, waiting to see some (and I'm just guessing here) Circle Agent looking for clues on to where I am (or where Solomon is, maybe?), or a terrorist that is breaking into Gallagher to capture Mr. Smith and take him to his dictator. I'm kind of hoping for the second one; Mr. Smith is a big boy. He can handle himself. Before long, I found myself almost at the end of the passageway. Unexpectedly, there _was_ someone there, just not an agent trying to attack anyone at Gallagher.

But I don't know if it's good or bad that I found him. . .


	3. I'm Feeling Conflicted

He was sitting on the ground, his back against the wall. I think he was crying.

Zach Goode _NEVER_ cries.

I stood in the shadows and watched him for a bit longer. It was hard to look at him without his mask, and hard to not jump into his arms.

Slowly, I took one step out from the wall. When he saw me, his face showed disbelief. Zach shook his head, then put a hand through his dark wavy hair, looking like he was trying to convince himself that I wasn't there.

But I was, so I got closer. He stopped looking at me. I stopped short, sending a loud echo through the tunnel. _Zach doesn't want me here? Or . . . _There has to be something else! I can't have _all_ my friends hate me! At the sound of my foot hitting the hard ground, he turned. I was frozen to my spot. After another moment passed, I regained my composure and kept walking to him. I sat crisscross right in from of him and took in all the details.

Zach's blood shot eyes looked back at me with pain, misery, shock (only a little), and something that I couldn't identify in this light (but I felt like it was important). Tears stained his face. His legs were up right next to each other, separating him from me. His arms were crossed on top of his knees. His dark wavy hair (longer from when I last saw him) was a mess (less of a mess since he smoothed it).

I didn't know what to say, so we sat in an edgy silence, just staring at each other. I didn't look in his eyes for more than a second; I couldn't stand it. Zach's walls were down; his walls were crashed before I came here. When I was thinking about seeing him, I was hoping an understanding Zach. Or at least for him to scream at me for a few minutes then hug me telling me it was okay.

I finally mustered the courage (or decided if this silence continued and he kept staring at me, _I _would start crying) to say something. "Hey Blackthorne Boy." I know genius, right?

I could feel him looking in my eyes, but I continued to look at his chest, pretending he wasn't crying and waiting for a smirk and annoying remark.

He just sat there. He didn't talk. He didn't move. He didn't breathe. He stared.

I looked up at the green eyes I've come to love. They were the same, not shocked and without the mystery emotion. I showed him an expectant look, seeing if he would talk. But did he? No. He tricked me, without knowing it. A tear came from my eye. It didn't get far before Zach wiped it with his thumb.

This feels wrong, but I couldn't bring myself to leave him alone . . . _again_. I already feel bad about how I came back. Zach doesn't know, so I won't let this encounter become too . . . I can't put it to words. Let's just say I don't want it to happen like the last time I saw him in the pigeon room.

He was crisscross like me now, his hand still on my cheek.

"What's wrong?" I heard my whisper carry through the tunnel.

He took his hand away, crossed his arms, and avoided looking at me.

"Zach," I said. His head was faced on the ground, but I know he was looking at me. "Why aren't you at dinner?" At the mention of dinner, my stomach growled. This gave him his smirk (which wasn't as annoying since I saw him crying, but at least he feels better), and he looked up at me. His annoying remark: "Why aren't _you?_"

"I was hoping to be in here alone. . ." I trailed off. My stomach growled again.

"Tell you what," he started. "I'll go to dinner if you go with me. Then we can both eat." I thought about his offer of food (not about who was IN the Dining Hall) and reluctantly agreed before my stomach could sound again.

We stood up. I looked at him. He looked a little woozy, but I shrugged it off. I kind of wanted to kiss him. It's been so long since I've kissed him. He kind of looked like he wanted to kiss me too, or put his arm around me at least. He refrained until we were in the Main Hall. I dint move it, I wanted it there (BUT ONLY A LITTLE!) I pushed Zach's arm off right before we entered the Dining Hall.

_He's still there?_ I thought as I saw him sitting where I left him.


	4. I'm Caught By Zach

He was just staring at the table, completely focused. He is adorable when he is lost in thought (which happens a lot, so he's _very _cute company). Most of the students and all the teachers have left. As Zach went to get food, I leaned down behind him. Letting my breath onto his neck, I whispered in his ear, "How much longer are you going to stare at the table? Because it's _definitely _a turn on."

He chuckled under his breath, and I took the seat beside him. "Damn it, Cammie. You're a honey pot if I ever saw one." I grinned at him.

"How else am I supposed to make you jealous?" I smirked.

"No. Fucking. Way. You're all mine," he said, pulling my chair closer to his. "You are all mine, right?" He's really cute when he's insecure, too! I kissed his cheek, my hunger forgotten. He relaxed in his chair. "I thought I was going to have to kill one of these bastards."

"Hey," I said in a serious tone. "Some of these _bastards_ are my friends."

He put his hands up in surrender. "I'm sorry. You didn't tell me anything about your friends." He _had _to remind me? I looked down. He pulled me close to him, and muttered, "I'm sorry," into my hair. I smiled and looked over his shoulder.

That's when I noticed Zach. He was across the room staring at us. His gaze was intense; I looked away before I could burst into flames. I didn't know what he heard or saw. Maybe I didn't want to, but I knew I had to find Solomon.

He can help me.


	5. I'm Gonna Talk to Solomon

Without a word, I picked myself up and walked out slowly. Then I ran down the corridor. To the subs. I knew if he was anywhere, he'd be there. He had to be. Frantically, I pressed the elevator button, and I thought back to when the _real_ mess started.

* * *

><p><em>My body felt limp. It's been beaten several times-just today. I couldn't keep this up. My journey has barely started and I've already been captured and tortured. I sat in my cell, rubbing the bruises forming up and down my arms. They ask me the same question over and over again, but I don't understand it.<em>

_I sat in the light that came through the bars. The Circle couldn't any more creative than to put me in a jail cell. Alone. I sat there, waiting. Waiting for a miracle._

_Gun shots started to ring, coming from the left. I crawl to the edge of the concrete wall toward the cold, metal bars. A boy who looked to be a year older than me was running down the hall, his heavy footsteps echoing off the steel walls. He skidded to a stop in front of my cell. He was probably eighteen or almost eighteen. His shaggy brown hair was falling in his face. I assume he's been running a while, he was dripping with sweat. I could hearshouts and cursings from where he came. He glanced behind him, then at the locks on my cage. I felt like a homeless puppy._

_He pulled a knife from his pocketand started to work on the lock. It clicked, and he yanked it off as bullets started to whiz passed him. He came in with me, using the wall as a sheild. His breathing was ragged. His gray eyes looked at me. "You Morgan?" His voice was a strained whisper. I nodded my head. He looked around and moved closer to the bars. Just as an agent came into view, the boy kicked him in the stomache. The agent doubled over in pain, and the boy elbowed his back and slapped a napotine patch on his neck. Another one came around and the boy skipped the fight and slapped the patch on him. The boy looked around the corner, then back at me. "Can you walk?" he asked. I shook my head, and he picked me up and started to leave the small room my cell was in. The rest of the details of that day are fuzzy, but I know we escaped. He was sent by the CIA to rescue me. We stayed together, in hiding. He helped me find answers._

* * *

><p>The elevator got down to Sublevel One, I ran out the doors. I sprinted down to where I knew Mr. Solomon would be. I entered the interrigation room out of breath. My teacher turned, shock etched on his face.<p>

"Cammie?" he asked. I looked up at him, still panting. "They said you were back. . ." he trailed off. "I was so worried."

"Yeah," I said, finding my voice. "You're okay. I was really worried that I'd come back and you'd be. . ." I went up and hugged him; he hugged me back.

"Why are you down here, anyway?" he asked.

"I wanted to talk to you. I met this guy while I was gone. He used to go to Blackthorne, but seeing as the boys are back, he'll have to stay here. I think it'll be hard for him. His past is . . . complicatedly mixed up with some of the people here." I glanced at Mr. Solomon. He looked a little puzzled. I sighed. "His name is Joe," I looked at the hottest teacher in Gallagher history. "Joe Solomon Jr." His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. He just shook his head. "You want to meet him?" I walked towards the door. I could sense Mr. Solomon following me. I smirked to myself.

It'll be interesting to tell everyone I'm in love with Solomon's son.

**I just thought of the twist of him being Solomon's son and I thought it'd make it interesting! Hope u like it(:**


	6. Chapter 6

**I think I'm looking at this wrong. I've got an idea. I'm goon to work on 2 stories at a time, so I can focus. I'm going to write My BFF and Reversed because to be honest right now I'm in love with them and I have to know the ending(: When I finish them, I'm going to write the ones that have the most reviews by the number of chapters. reviews divided by chapters = whatever has the most I will continue. Review your fav stories. Give me ideas for when I pick that one back up. Trust me, by then I'll need the help. One more thing I want you to do. Know I love you guys and that I'm not doing this to punish you, I'm just being an author.**

**-MC out**


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